


broad strokes

by greymahariel (acceptnosubstitutes)



Series: command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Experimental Style, Gen, Relationship Suggestions, TV Show Reference, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3110279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acceptnosubstitutes/pseuds/greymahariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Consider this...a snapshot in time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	broad strokes

**Author's Note:**

> In a moody place. Wrote a short bit, very quickly, said fuck grammar, make myself feel better.
> 
> This was the best of a lot of three.
> 
> See if I ever feel like doing this again. Maybe add chapters.
> 
> Also, summary? I'm too tired to give a fuck right now. Make a better one, maybe later. Maybe not.
> 
> Why put with this particular series? Feels right /shrugs
> 
> Idk lol
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Wtf do I put as tags...~~

It is time. _The_ moment, and Commander Cullen waits for him beside his bedroom door, which is thrown open. Was open, he didn’t even need to knock. And Krem is there, on the other side of the bed, nimble fingers working at the tangled straps of the Inquisitor’s armor - tip of his tongue poking out the side of his mouth. The quick flash of white before he straightens, returns to his normal, gentle smile.

For Lavellan.

Lavellan steps forward, keeps his back to Cullen. Seems somehow to turn around breaks something. Some thread, stitched into his back - closing gaping wounds that have red, sore edges. Yet to heal.

He could dress himself. Has slowly buttoned up the underclothes that will prevent the mail, sharp veridium, shiny edges, from chafing his skin in the uncomfortable spots. He could finish with the rest.

But he would miss this…

Krem’s hands smooth over his shoulders. Light pressure, warmth through the cloth. Ensuring the mail will go on without catching. Lifts the cuirass into hands scarred, small, and delicate. Yet they move Lavellan as needed, sure as anything, sometimes rough. Laces. Snaps buckles in place. Adjusts the front when it slips down.

Draws close to Lavellan to tug his hood outside of the back of his armor. Then fingers in his hair, still no words but the _smile_ , and cloth slips over his head - careful, so the red doesn’t get in his eyes. Vision, it’s important to an archer.

As always, sooner or later this moment ends. Lavellan has to draw up. Has to leave the content, the peculiar, inexplicable safety of simply being near Krem. Like this, even.

Krem surprises him by the hand on his arm, slowly pulling him back to stand in front of him. Thumb across Lavellan’s cheek, then leans in. Softest brush of lips.

“Fear gets you killed, anger keeps you alive,” Krem says, letting go. “Hold onto that anger. Keep it close.”

He laughs.

“That’s what Bull says, anyway.”

His eyes shift from Lavellan to Cullen, and back, though. It sounds more...put together than the Iron Bull, in a way. Old. Tired. Something packed tight in a few words some would fail to fill in a speech three times its length.

Lavellan nods. Turns to Cullen, and breaks that moment, world coming back into focus like a punch in his gut. Cullen almost seems to wait for the feeling to slowly float off, before he shifts his weight and forces a smile over the minute tremble that seems to thread all the way through his body.

What is it from? Lyrium? The thought of meeting Samson? A lack of sleep?

Possibly all.

Cullen laughs at him, smile turning a little softer. A little more real.

“The things you say to me,” he says, “what we hear from you and the Iron Bull. And _this_ , this is what makes you blush?”

Keep the real issue out of focus. Until they leave Skyhold. Don’t leave it here. Don’t _bring_ it here.

Lavellan scoffs, bumping his shoulder as he passes out of the room.


End file.
